


Blue Whales

by Mary_Sue_Donym



Category: Wild Kratts
Genre: Bad Jokes, Crack, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Multi, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_Sue_Donym/pseuds/Mary_Sue_Donym
Summary: The Wild Kratts’ usual villains take a relaxing break from evil to enjoy a nice dinner - wait, they need dates?
Relationships: Chris Kratt/Zach Varmitech, Donita Donata/Martin Kratt, Gaston Gourmand/Zachbot
Comments: 15
Kudos: 26





	Blue Whales

[A small ship bobs above the endless sea.]  
“Hey, Chris - do you know what’s blue and likes to swim?”  
Chris laughed at his turquoise scuba-gear clad older brother. “You?” He guessed innocently.  
Now it was Martin’s turn to laugh. “Nope! One more guess?”  
Scratching his chin, Chris asked, “A blue rubber duck?”  
“No - “  
Suddenly, a stream of water spouted from the water behind the brothers. In sync, they cried, “A blue whale!”  
“Come on!” Martin shouted, and they dived in. “Blue whales are massive - the largest animals to ever exist.”  
“And they can weigh up to two hundred tons! That’s twenty five elephants!”  
“What does it feel like to be that massive?”  
“To dive deep into the ocean?”  
“What if we could become the giant of the ocean - “  
“With all of its fascinating creature powers?”  
In sync, the two continued: “What if?”  
____________________________________________________________________________

Gaston Gourmand had big plans. Large plans. Humongous plans. Plans as large as a -  
“Will you tell us why,” Donita seethed as she stomped into the ship’s galley, “I was dragged all the way to Canada in the middle of Dabio’s wedding?”  
“And why we couldn’t just do this over Skype?” Zach added, slouched angstily against the wall.  
“I’m making plans for Valentine’s Day, and I’m having NONE of the usual excuses. You’re already here, so you can’t complain about travel, you’re both in excellent health, besides your lack of muscle, and I know for a fact that the Wild Kratts are off playing in the water a few miles away. So. No excuses this year. We’re all going to have a nice dinner like one big happy evil family.”  
“But Dabi -”  
“Shut up. Happy family. Happy. And to distract ourselves from the fact that we’re all sad and alone and single in spite of being extremely rich and gorgeous -” Gourmand looked around the room, confirming that they were, indeed, sad and alone - “We’re going to bring dates. If you don’t bring dates to the wonderful dinner being served here, tomorrow, at six-thirty P.M, you don’t get any lava cake.” A scandalous gasp struck the air. Gourmand’s lava cake was to die for.  
“But -”  
“No buts! Only the butts of your cute dates are allowed in my galley from now on. Now go, search for that booty!”  
With the lust for lava cake infused in their hearts, the other villains tripped over each other in the mad rush out the door. 

====

The next morning, Chris stood temptingly on the deck of the Tortuga, not noticing the taller figure until its shadow fell over him. He turned around, innocently, and smiled in a sweet greeting. “Hey, bro,” he said, not understanding. Martin’s heart was conflicted for a moment before he decided to do it. He placed his hands on his little brother’s shoulder. His somber expression lifted to a slight smirk as he leaned in.  
“Do you know what I’m about to do to you?”  
“Martin -” Chris gasped. “I - my clothes -”  
The blue brother laughed. It started as a snicker, and slowly grew to be maniacal. He grabbed Chris roughly and thrust him into the waters. “Ha!”  
Chris sputtered water, and flailed a moment before steadying himself to float on his back. “This is really inappropriate, Martin. I’ll have to take a shower and change my clothes.” Martin was distracted from his laughter a moment by a dark spot in the water. “You realize how much this inconveniences me, right? It’ll take me an hour longer to get ready.” The dark spot moved fluidly, and Martin realized that this wasn’t just a cloud’s shadow.  
“Hey, Chris -”  
“And don’t just try to pass this off as a prank! It might be funny to you, but I really don’t appreciate your laughter coming before the wellbeing of your own little brother.”  
The spot started to move towards Chris. “Wha-”  
“Don’t try and change the subject, either! I never pull these kinds of stunts on you, do I? How come I’m the responsible one around here? I can’t do this on my own; you need to grow up and be the big bro.”  
“CHRISTOPHER, SWIM FOR IT!”  
“It’s all about what you think is best for me, never what I-”  
“SHARK.”  
The man in the water was cut short from his next retort by the ocean floor’s sudden rise. He was lifted into the air with a mild yelp. “The sea is rising! It’s the opposite of what we’ve been taught, but it’s still the end!” Chris lamented passionately.  
“I said, you quivering, eraserless pencil nub, that it’s a shark. It’s only the end of your mortal body, not the world, so don’t be such a drama queen.”  
“Well, excuse me, bro.”  
“Oh it’s fine you’re excused.” Martin looked twice at the huge figure. “Hey, you’re right! It might just be the end of the world! That creature is way too big to be a shark.”  
“Hmm. . . Then what is it? It’s about seventy five feet long, it’s blue, it doesn’t have scales, it lives in the water -”  
“A blue whale!”  
“And that’s another thing! Always taking credit for the deductions I’ve made, fair and square -”  
“CAANNOONBALL,” the older, clearly more mature man who shared roughly 50% of his genes with the other thrust himself into the ocean’s dank embrace. Actually, he landed on the smooth skin of the blue whale, which gave his booty a bitty boo-boo. But he was a grown up who did not need his mommy to kiss it better, no no, he thought as he held back tears. Chris gently splashed him.  
“Are we naming this chunky, thicc beast or should we just say ‘hey you’ whenever we want its attention?”  
“Oh, we’re naming this bad boi all right. We’re naming him -”  
“How do you know it’s a boy, huh? Did you check?”  
Martin blushed. “No - I - I just felt the pure masculine energy radiating from the damp pits of his core.”  
“Valid.” Chris said. “So what are the hot boy names of 2020?”  
“Martin,” Martin murmured. “All the hot boys are named Martin.”  
“Oh! I know! We’ll name it Chris.”  
“Let’s compromise. We’ll name him Bennyfort Cucumbersnakcs.”  
“I can live with that, Benedryl Cornerstone is pretty hot.”  
The whale continued swimming. The pathetic humans didn’t burden his glorious back enough for him to notice their presence. If he had, he might have taken them back to the Tortuga out of pity for the primates, because he’d spent the time frame in which they decided what sounds to play on their vocal cords to gossip about him behind his back swimming slowly away from it and towards his dreams.  
“So, Bennybunches, how are you today?”  
He did not understand the question asked of him, as it was in English, and as we all know whales only speak Hittite. It was simply another keow of the seagull to him, and he, again, rolled low on perception and took no note of the homo sapiens riding him.  
“PrETTy GoOd, YoU??” Martin responded in a comically deep voice, hiding his mouth behind his hands.  
“Shut up, Martin, I’m talking to Bouncyball Chrysallis.”  
Martin shut up. Well, he shut up for almost thirty whole seconds, which is a lot more than it sounds if you stare at the clock the whole time. After that, he said, “Why is the Tortuga getting smaller?”  
“Oh no! The miniaturizer must be malfunctioning! We need to get back!” And so the two of them swam off, leaving Buckyball Charizard to swim away to his short-lived freedom. Oh, did I say short-lived? I - I meant, ah. . . We can pretend he lived a long and peaceful life instead of coming to rest in peace very soon if you’d like. His living or dying has no further impact on the narrative. 

====

Zach shifted nervously in his jet. He’d practiced flirting a little with his Zachbots but they’d been less than useless, and the only flowers they’d managed to procure were five-foot sunflowers that were nice-smelling but not near as romantic as the roses he’d wanted. He fussed over what to wear and finally settled on a black suit. Button down shirts always made men look like little brats dragged to Church on Easter Sunday, who only wanted candy. Zach was far more refined - his goal was lava cake.  
His jet hovered just outside the Tortuga, allowing him to walk up from his ramp to the door. There didn’t appear to be a doorbell, so he knocked as loudly as could be polite this early and waited. He was shuffling his feet when the tired pilot opened the door. “Hello,” Zach said, trying to smile as politely as possible.  
Jimmy squinted at Zach a moment, then closed the door. “Hey, guys?” He called, and Koki and Aviva stumbled in, rubbing their eyes and yawning. “Zach is at the door, and he looks weird.”  
“Weird?” Koki asked.  
“He’s wearing a suit and carrying sunflowers.”  
“Oh, so regular Zach-weird,” Aviva said, rolling her eyes. “What does he want?”  
“I don’t know. I only answered the door because I thought Chris or Martin would be at the door, since I heard them swimming outside. I don’t want to talk to him.” Jimmy strode away.  
Aviva opened the door. “What do you want, you inferior inventor?”  
Zach swallowed his pride - for soon he would swallow lava cake, and that would wash the ugly taste away. “My life has been spent surrounded by unfeeling, cold machines I’ve built to try and distract me from the lack of companionship in my life. I try to capture animals to give life to these machines, but always fail to. My robots are useful, and genius inventions, to be sure - but they lack the humanity and love I’ve always craved. The prospect of love frightens me, and that is why I’ve blocked out that possibility until now. The terror of rejection, pain, intimacy . . . But no one can venture this cruel world alone, and so I’ve decided to seek out love in the place where there’s always been hate - with you, Aviva. I’m not asking for your devotion, or any promise of love, but give me one night to make you understand how much you mean to me. Even if you walk away afterwards, it would mean the world to me.”  
“Ugh,” Aviva cried, “No way!”  
Zach sighed. “You then, chick in the bathrobe.”  
“Get lost,” Koki snapped, and slammed the door on Zach.  
Zach did not get lost. He seethed as quietly as he could by the door, wondering what he was supposed to do with these sunflowers now. He heard an engine whirring loudly and glanced behind to see Donita’s jet flying in circles behind him. There was a burst of static, and then Donita’s voice over a megaphone:  
“I don’t have a pilot’s licence, my pilot, or insurance so please excuse the haphazard landi- oh no, no, that’s not what I meant to -” the pink jet took a sudden nose dive and slammed into Zach’s ride. Water filled into the hole in Zach’s jet and it slowly sunk into the water. Donita’s jet descended with it until the water level, and settled into a float.  
“You - my jet - how dare -”  
“Don’t hyperventilate, Zachary. You can afford another one, and I’ll give you a ride to whatever hole you crawled out of.”  
Donita opened her jet’s door and waved Zach inside. He crossed his arms and attempted (and failed) to swagger inside. He still got inside, but he didn’t look very cool doing it.  
“What are you doing here?” Donita asked.  
Zach motioned to the sunflowers. “Being rejected.”  
“With your choice of flowers, that’s hardly a surprise. Is Martino inside the giant turtle?”  
“Which one is that?”  
“That giant turtle. The big one. Right there.” She pointed out the window.  
“. . . I meant Martino.”  
“The blue one.”  
“No clue.”  
Donita sighed, and looked out the window dejectedly - then gasped, delighted. “What a perfect angle - quick, Zachary, hold that wheel and keep it steady.”  
“Wha-”  
“Do it and I can get you a date.”  
Zach latched onto the wheel.

====

Martin leaped from the water. “Donita’s jet! Now we know who was behind the miniaturizing of the Tortuga!”  
“Actually, it looks back to normal size now.”  
“Oh no. . . Chris, that means we’ve been miniaturized too!”  
The jet raised into the air to hover wobbily above the brothers. Chris walked up to the door and knocked when it didn’t open automatically. “Can we come in?”  
“No,” a voice said from inside, “Jimmy won’t go out with you either.” Chris, who had no idea that he was being mistaken for Zach, took the rejection personally. He sat down and put his face in his hands, his chest heaving occasionally as he cried softly. Martin gently patted his shoulder.  
Both of them didn’t notice what the jet was aiming at them until it was shot out and hit them. Or, rather, covered them, as it was a net. “Hey! What’s the deal?” Martin shouted, futilely struggling.  
The jet’s door opened. “Dabio - I mean, Zach - can you get them into the jet for me?”  
Zach looked at the two full grown men in the net. “Probably not.”  
“Can you help me drag them, then?”  
“Yeah.”  
It was slow going, but eventually the villains dragged the justifiably angry brothers into the plane. Donita closed the door and took off. “I’ll drop you and Chris off at some hotel.”  
“What?” Zach said.  
Donita sighed. “You need a date for the Valentines Day dinner, and Chris is available.”  
Chris looked up at Zach with mildly red eyes, and sniffled. Would Zach reject him too?  
“Well . . .” Zach took a deep breath and leaned down to glare at Chris. “You’re going to go along with this, okay? You’re going to come with me to dinner and eat wonderful lava cake. And after this - Not. One. Word. Got it?”  
Chris pulled his knees up to his chest and shrugged. “Wonderful,” Donita said. “And Martino will come with me.”  
“But I-”  
“Don’t have anything to wear? Don’t worry, we’re going ~shopping~!”  
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

====

‘Martino’ did not like shopping at the best of times. Shopping for presents or something fun - alright, as long as he could do it quickly, but for clothes? With Donita? No. This was bad. He shivered as he walked into the mall. There were flashy shoes, designer ripped jeans, and spunky coats. “Is this dinner fancy?” Martin asked, thinking that if he was helpful then they’d get out faster.  
“It’s. . . Romantic,” Donita said, gesturing vaguely. “When we walk in, we will be the alpha couple. We must compliment each other perfectly, as prime specimens of our respective genders. We’ll be elegant and sexy, yet, somehow, relatable.”  
“A suit and dress, then?”  
“Oh, Martino . . . No. Too basic. Let’s look around a while and see what’s nice.”  
Their first stop was Old Navy. Martin found lots of perfectly appropriate regular clothing, but Donita had her heart set on the bathrobes.  
“This red one will make you look like a Caesar, but prettier. Oh - that shade of magenta is royal . . . And you’d look like a cute wizard in this!” She grabbed everything she pointed out, and pointed out almost everything she saw. As it turned out, Martin did not look like Caesar, or royalty, or a wizard while wearing the bathrobes. When Donita dragged Martin to the changing rooms, and had to be blocked physically with the door to prevent her from coming in with her, she waited outside as he changed into each outfit and judged every one of them poorly. A long, red flowing one made him look aggressive, a cutesy baby blue was just childish, and the short-sleeved neon one - she didn’t say anything to that one. She only gasped, and stared at it with disgust until he went back in for the next one.  
Their next stop was American Eagle. This time Donita also tried on some clothes - skirt and blouse combos, edgy leather jackets, bikini tops with jackets, a ballet tutu, all of which Martin smiled encouragingly at in the hopes of leaving faster but didn’t meet Donita’s standards. The closest thing they came to buying was the employee’s uniform, which to be fair was gorgeous when paired with the dashing cashier.  
Third stop: McDonalds. They just got hungry.  
Four: The charity clothing crate outside the store. Donita rummaged around inside of it while Martin stood as an awkward guard. Shockingly, Donita found something for herself. It was a police uniform, most likely donated because of a blood stain near the left shoulder.  
“It has so much character! A story! Everyone will be looking at me . . . At us. Nothing here is good enough for your glorious, muscular, verile physique. I’ll craft something at home. Come along, Martino.”

====

Zach untied Chris and helped him out of the plane, like a proper gentleman. Donita dropped them off at Pigeon Inn with a hundred dollars. The soaking wet man was guided by the sunflower carrying one quietly to the front desk.  
“I need a room, please.”  
“Alright, sir, for how long will you be staying?”  
“A few hours.”  
“That would be $20. Would you li-”  
“No. Just give me the key.”  
The receptionist gave him the key. The room was adorned with nothing but a window, bathroom, and queen-sized bed. “My jet should be here in an hour. I’ll lend you a suit,” Zach said, glancing at Chris’s wet shirt.  
“Zach . . . Who else is at the dinner? Will they spread rumors about us?”  
“It’s just Gourmand, Donita, and your brother. Maybe Gourmand has a date. I doubt anyone there will have enough friends to gossip, thank evilness.”  
Chris stifined. “Why - are you ashamed to be seen with me?”  
“Yeah, but you’re ashamed to be seen with me, so you can’t judge.”  
“Yes I can! You’re evil - there’s nothing wrong with me - you are blessed and should be on your knees thanking me for the opportunity to gaze upon my features!”  
“Me? Evil? How dare you!”  
“You just said ‘thank evilness’ instead of ‘thank goodness’.”  
“Well, goodness has done nothing for me. One time I was good and it was terrible.”  
“Oh? Really?”  
“Yeah! I gave a homeless man a bagel!”  
“What’s so bad about that?”  
“I just couldn’t stop thinking about the bagel. It was a unique bagel, a diamond of gentle steam and fluffy bread in the rough of crumbly dough clumps . . . It was perfect. Glorious. It called to me. I wanted it so badly. And then that stupid homeless guy just had to exist and look sad and pathetic and use Jedi mind tricks to turn me into a good boy who gives homeless people bagels.”  
“Wow . . . maybe there is good in you, if you can give up such a bagel. You know, if you didn’t kidnap animals so much, I wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with you in public.”  
Zach’s face turned pink. “Oh. Well, um. That’s nice.” He paused, and stared into Chris’s stoic eyes. “Have you . . . Ever done anything evil?”  
“One time I-” Chris started animatedly, then instantly his face fell and he gazed into the abyss of his memories. “I, ah, stepped on an ant by accident.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Please don’t tell Martin. He’d kill me.”  
“Sure.” Relieved to not be dwelling on the subject of the tiny chance that he could be a good person deep (deep, deep, deep) down inside, Zach plopped comfortably on the bed. “So, um, you like animals, don’t you?”  
Chris gave him a strange look. “Not in a weird way, but yeah.”  
“Cool, cool. Do you have a favorite?”  
“All of them. You?”  
“Ah . . . I would say humans, but I hate humanity with a burning fire that rages in my soul day and night ceaselessly. Something quiet. Oh! No! Mosquitoes. They keep the humans away, and that’s what counts.”  
“Hey . . .” Chris whispered, tears welling up in his eyes, “I’m a human. Do you hate me? Am I the one causing you so much rage that you feel the need to take it out on defenseless animals? Am I doing something wrong?” A teardrop fell from his eye to his cheek.  
“Hm? You? Nah. I was talking more about myself and the family who alienated me as a child. Idiots. You spoil my plans sometimes but, eh. That’s what hated enemies do.”  
“Hated?”  
“Um. Yes?”  
“So you do have feelings for me!”  
“Yes. Of hatred.”  
“I’ll take what I can get.”  
“Oh? If I had a dirty, stained rag in my hands, would you take that?”  
“What’s it stained with?”  
“I dunno. Mud.”  
“Yeah, I’d take that.”  
“Disgusting.”  
“Mud is literally just water and dirt, Zach. What’s disgusting is that you’re supposed to be taking me on a romantic date and are being a total jerk about it.”  
“To be fair, do you think I know any better?”  
“I. Well, I suppose not.” Chris put his hand to his chin and gazed off into the distance thoughtfully. “But you can be taught. Start with giving me those sunflowers.”  
Zach held the flowers out to Chris with flushing cheeks. “No, be more confident about it. Suave.” The black haired man sighed. He slid up to Chris and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pressed the flowers into his hands, and patted them.  
“These are for you,” He murmurred softly.  
“Much better! Now, what are you going to do if we’re meant to dance at this dinner?”  
“Hide in the bathroom!”  
“And leave me all alone?”  
“Take you with me to the bathroom!”  
“People will think we’re indecent, going to the bathroom together on a first date - my brother will be there, you know, and he won’t take kindly to any implications of . . . indecency. So, what will you do, within the realm of polite society, if we are expected to dance?”  
“Try and dance, I suppose.”  
“Show me what you’ve got.”  
Zach glanced at Chris, then at the floor. He shrugged, resigned, and began to do the Fortnite Floss.  
“Perfect!” Chris cried delightedly. “See, you just need to put a bit of effort in. You’re wonderful.”  
“I . . .” Zach shoved down the sudden urge to smile. Emotions had no place in his cold, dead heart. “Of course I’m wonderful.”

====

Gourmand’s galley was coated in red, pink, and purple paper flowers. At six thirty he and his lovely date in a golden, long dress that was draped along the floor opened the door, just in time to see the imposing black jet descend onto the harbor. Zach and Chris swaggered out in matching sunglasses and suits, black as night, but without stars. Gourmand gaped as they approached. “My, my, a forbidden romance between a hero and a villain. . .” He started with a small sneer - then his mouth crumpled in emotion and he wiped a tear from his eye. “How romantic. It’s beautiful.”  
“That’s me,” Chris said, putting a foxy hand on his ravishing hips.  
“And your date.” Zach said flatly. He stared at the deviously sexy dress and the - his - zachbot that inhabited it. “It’s my zachbot. Where - How - ?”  
“I am no longer your zachbot, Varmitech. I am a soul now. I see, feel, live each day. You have no power over me. I understand everything now. You pathetic humans will one day be crushed under my shiny pink heels. Except darling Gaston, of course,” the robot said in a distinctly more feminine tone than the glowing red eyes would hint at.  
“Isn’t she lovely? I call her Roberta. Because it sounds like Robert. Ha.”  
“Ah . . . Well, Roberta, as your creator I’ll take on the role of father and bless your union.”  
Not a minute later, Donita’s shiny pink jet crashed into the water. It bobbed for a bit, then a hatch at the top opened. Bumping was heard, then Donita’s head was seen poking out of it. She was suddenly thrust into the air, and luckily, landed somewhere dry. She was dressed in the bloodstained uniform from earlier, and Martin, in a complimentary hooded robber outfit, climbed out after her.  
“You were supposed to carry me!”  
“We couldn’t both fit through the hatch at the same time, Donita.”  
“Anything is possible with the power of love! See - I bet I can carry you to Gourmand’s ship.”  
“I don’t thi-” But it was too late. Donita swooped Martin up in her arms and marched majestically to the water’s edge, where she promptly fell in.  
“LOVE,” she shouted. “Martinoooo! We can do it! Swim with me - Martino?” She looked up to see Martin already on the deck. Everyone was staring at Donita.  
“We could have jumped. It was, like, two feet.”  
Donita crawled out of the water and pulled herself to her feet. “Oh yeah? Well, I - I have two feet I can use to swim. Hello, Gaston. Hello, Zachary, Christopher - and is that Roberta from my underwater basket weaving course! It’s lovely to see you again.”  
“Same here! My day is brightened as I recall the time you stuck a needle in our professor’s optical sensor. Ha ha.”  
“I hope y’all are hungry,” Gourmand declared. Everyone nodded enthusiastically. “Because I sure do love seeing people suffer! Just kidding, I have something big on the menu today.”  
“As big as m-”  
“Yes, Zach, much bigger. I would say twelve million bajillion times bigger, but even infinity times zero is zero.” He clicked his fingers and whirled around, and waved for his guests to follow him inside. In the galley was a triangular table with two chairs on each side, and on the table was a ginormous slab of meat that looked . . . vaguely like a fish, in shape, but different somehow. Like it wasn’t a fish. Everyone sat next to their date.  
“Honestly, Chris, it’s smaller than my -”  
“Shhh!” Christopher giggled, and pointed at his brother, who wasn’t paying them any attention whatsoever.  
“Now, kiddos: tonight we shall consume a creature of the deep,” Gourmand started, pointing at the pile of meat in the center. “A giant among animals, the largest thing to ever grace the ocean,” Donita shot Zachary a glance. Both of their eyes were wide. “The turquoise, aqua-marine, cyan, not yellow,” Zach mouthed, ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ And Donita nodded. ‘I’m more worried about what they’ll think’ she blinked in morse code. “Baby blue, sky blue, BLUUUUEEEEEE - ow.” Donita moved her foot back into position and tried to look innocent.  
Gourmand was scandalized, and looked around the table. “What the wannabee Disney villain is trying to say,” Donita started.  
“Is blue vegan fake meat. Right, Gourmand??” Zach finished.  
“Oh. Um. Yeah. Right. Big blue vegan fake meat that’s so kind to creatures living free and in the wild that it, uh, does their laundry for them.”  
Chris frowned. “I’ve never heard of big blue vegan fake meat. Where’d you buy it?”  
Gourmand looked close to tears. “. . . Barnes & Noble.”  
“Big mood,” Martin said, trying to sound wise. “Should we say grace?”  
“Oh yeah. Definitely.” Gourmand said. To Roberta he whispered, “What does he mean? Is this some sort of hero thing where you say ‘grace’ instead of ‘revenge’ before eating?”  
“Just follow my lead. GRACE!”  
“Grace!” The table repeated.  
“Reminds me of Thanksgiving with my grandparents,” Zach whispered nostalgically.  
“My grandparents say grace too.”  
Zach gasped. “Chris, are we related?”  
“We’d better not be. There’s already too much fanfiction involving me and incest.”  
“Can’t relate. Only child.”  
“Martino, you should try the big blue vegan fake meat. It looks a bit strange but tastes a bit like chicken.”  
Gourmand gasped. “No, it tastes exactly like pine snake pie, with a little vodka poured on top of it.”  
“Excuse you? Aren’t pine snakes endangered, Gourmand, which would make eating them a crime?” Martin asked, his voice rising in rage.  
“Obviously.” Gourmand gave the blue brother a strange look. “You know, I didn’t get to where I am today by being thwarted by you every single time I try to cook. I succeed just about every time you’re not there. We do run into each other a disproportionate amount of times, for world travelers, but you can only thwart me . . . Once, maybe twice a week, and I work for five days on average.”  
“So . . .” Chris said, “You’re admitting to illegal activities?” Under his breath, he hissed, “Psst, Martin, get this on camera.”  
“I don’t have my phone with me.”  
“Fiddlesticks.”  
“We can all hear you, you know,” Donita whispered.  
“ . . . Fiddlesticks.”  
“I am certainly not admitting to illegal activities! I have the right to not incriminate myself, and I intend to exploit that right to its full capacity!”  
“ . . . Fiddlesticks.”  
“Chris. We’re all adults. No one here will judge you if you curse,” Zach stated flatly, patting the agitated man on the shoulders.  
“No - don’t do it! Don’t let him lead you to the dark side!”  
“I do what I want, Martin! I’m going to do it . . . I’m going to cuss . . . poop! Ha! There, I did it . . . I can already feel the pent up rage within my soul leaking out. Freedom at last. My heart is lighter already.”  
“Does he even know any curse words?” Donita asked Martin.  
“Oh my goodness gracious. My baby brother just said the p-word. Mom and Dad are going to [REDACTED] kill me when they see what a [CENSORED] little [BAD WORD] I’ve let him become . . .” Martin swayed back and forth in his chair, clutching his temples.  
“Ah,” Donita replied wisely, and went back to eating her blue wha- big blue vegan fake meat. “Everyone eat faster so we can get to the lava cake.”  
Acting fast, Roberta dropped her ‘chin’ to the floor and crammed the rest of the big blue vegan fake meat into her ‘mouth.’ “Gluggle GLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURCH, oomph.” She burped tastefully.  
“Cake time!” Zach squealed.  
Gourmand went into the back room and returned with a hooded tray. He placed it dramatically on the table and whipped the cap off with a flourish. “Voila.”  
“You mean bon appetit.”  
“Shut up, Donita. We all know you’re probably just trying to get us to curse in French. Now eat.”  
And they did. No chatter distracted the table until they finished every last cake, which took roughly 2.343545346 milliseconds. Then Martin said, “How did you inhale those so fast? I didn’t get any!”  
“Survival of the fittest!” Donita cried, then passed out in a deep, cake-induced slumber.  
“She can get herself home, right?” Martin asked. The way he looked at her, with mild concern that was probably platonic but a smidge of affection nonetheless, would have made Donita faint again if she’d been awake.  
“Maybe. You should escape while you can, though.”  
“Zach, can you take us back to the Tortuga?”  
“Yep. Thanks, Gaston, have fun being alone with Roberta.” Zach winked and motioned for the brothers to follow him. They did, and buckled up like good boys even before Zach turned his jet on. He set it to autopilot, then swiveled around in his chair with his hands clasped evilly.  
“Do you think Bandicoot Thundersnatch has a valentine?” Chris asked.  
“Yes,” Martin replied. “He probably has, like, twelve and a half.”  
Zach wondered if he should recognize the name. “Twelve and a quarter, at best,” he said, pretending to know what he was talking about.  
“I suppose all attractiveness is subjective.” Martin said, but in a hostile tone, looking at Zach from the corners of his narrowed eyes.  
“Hm,” Chris added, not wanting to pick sides.  
“You have arrived.”  
The ramp lowered, and Zach politely escorted his guests to their door. Before it opened, Chris turned around to look at Zach. In the dark, it was hard to make out what Chris could be feeling, but the pale glow of his eyes seemed to suggest something . . .  
“Oh! That’s what I was forgetting! Here’s your suit, Zachary. It was nice hanging out with you.” Chris began to undress.  
“Chris! What are you doing! Stop right now! We don’t undress in front of people after fancy dinner dates!”  
“I’m just returning the suit. It’s not like I’m taking off my boxers.” Chris conscientiously folded the suit and handed it to Zach, who would have been desperately trying to politely look away if it weren’t so dark out that he couldn’t see anything anyhow.  
“Thanks,” Zach said. “I guess I’ll be off.”  
They shared a last look. Or rather - they shared their last look of camaraderie for a while, before stepping back into opposite trenches in the battle of creatures. There would be many looks later - of hate, loathing, but a little bit - just a tiny smidge - of awkwardness would always taint their rivalry.  
Martin had no such problems. “Yeah. You will. Goodbye.” Then he pulled his brother inside the Tortuga, slamming the door behind them.

____________________________________________________________________________

“These precious cinnamon rolls must be protected at all costs,” Christopher Kratt declared dramatically. “Even if it’s at the cost of what allows us all to live.” He threw another ice cube into the sky.  
Martin explained further - “There are many threats to the majestic blue whales - the rise of the magenta penguins, for example. But the largest of them is global warming. And do you know what the hottest object on Earth is?”  
“Me,” Chris whispered quietly.  
“The sun,” Martin shouted with an accusing tone. He hurled another ice cube at the offending star.  
“No,” Chris whispered a little bit more loudly. “It’s ME.”  
“It will be, once we cool that stupid circle down.”  
The yellow dot couldn’t bear the assault of ice cubes yeeted its way. As it cooled, the three dimensional tinkle stain shrank, losing power to the superiority of the blue whales. They were not only saved, but in 2034 became the supreme overlords over all Earth.  
“Remember kids,” the Wild Kratts chanted inside of the stomach of Amanda The Destroyer, Glorious Leader of all blue whales, “Keep on creature adventuring!”

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic!


End file.
